Dragon Plague
by BlueWater5
Summary: Twenty-four years after the Battle of Hogwarts, a plague threatens to devastate the wizarding world. Harry Potter wants the reclusive Severus Snape to search for a cure. The result may lead to a better future in more ways than one.
1. Alumni Weekend

_I'd be happy if J.K. Rowling reads this; she certainly did not write it._

Harry brushed the ash from his cloak before sending it to the hook on the wall by the door. "Ginny!" he called out, "I'm home!"

"In the kitchen, love," Harry's red-haired wife called back. "Did you get everything done?"

Harry walked into the kitchen, accio'd an apple lying on the table, and grabbed it with his left hand. "Finally! I swear if I'd known how much paperwork was involved with catching bad guys, I would have gone into professional Quidditch. The good news is I was able to get to the point where I can see my desk, so I'll be able to take off for Hogwarts first thing tomorrow morning. I can't wait to see the kids again! Your weekend is still free too, right?" he asked a bit anxiously.

Ginny floated dinner to the table and sat down. "Yes, I'll be free. I have just a few things to finish up tomorrow, and then I'll join you with the rest of the parents Saturday morning. My boss knows not to try to contact me over the weekend unless it's truly an emergency." She accio'd the pumpkin juice. "You know you make the same complaint about bureaucracy at least once a month." She gave her husband a mischievous grin. "I think you're more eager to play in the alumni-student Quidditch match than to see the kids."

Harry sat down. "Well, it's only been two months since school started," he teased. "But when was the last time I played Quidditch?" He sighed softly. "Of course, it would be better if I could play against James. I can't understand why he didn't play with the team this year."

Ginny frowned. "I think he was disappointed that he got too big to play seeker and just didn't want to learn another position."

"Well, it will give him more time to focus on NEWTS, I suppose," Harry responded as he began to eat. "You're sure Ron isn't jealous that he wasn't invited to be on the alumni team?"

Ginny shook her head. "Ron and I both recognize that we're not in your league as far as Quidditch skills go. Besides, Oliver was selected to captain the team because of his time in the professionals, and you know he wouldn't give up the chance to play himself. Oh, remind me after dinner to give you a couple of things for the kids."

The next morning, Harry apparated to the lawn outside of Hogwarts. He had only taken a few steps towards the gate when he heard the familiar voice of Oliver Wood.

"Harry! I'm glad you could make it a day early. As seeker, it's not as critical to practice with the rest of the team, but working together never hurts," Oliver said in one breath. He grabbed Harry's arm and pulled him through the gate. "Let's go to the Quidditch pitch. Did you bring your broom?" Pulling out his beloved Firebolt, Harry unshrank it. "Harry! Don't you keep up with the times? I know you love that broom, but it's at least four generations old by now. Even if you don't have a Mercury, you should at least have a Zephyr."

Harry felt slightly defensive. "It may be old, but this Firebolt can do tricks that need to be seen to be believed. You know how many games we won with me flying it. Besides, I'm not going to buy a new model just for this match."

"It's OK, Harry," Oliver said pacifyingly. "You're right – you're unbeatable on that beauty. Besides, it would take you too long to get used to a new broom to help us in tomorrow's game. Let me introduce you to the rest of the team. We'll have a practice game before lunch so we can learn each other's style. The match is scheduled for midmorning tomorrow, so we can get serious after lunch and get in some additional hours after tonight's feast as well."

"Whoa, Oliver! I do want to see my kids as well."

"Sure, Harry! I've blocked off an hour after lunch and dinner, and then of course after the game tomorrow you'll be free to celebrate with them."

Harry smiled. Oliver had lost none of his obsessiveness about the game. It was refreshing to see that some things never change.

"Hey, guys!" Oliver called out to the group gathered underneath one set of rings. "You all know Harry Potter, of course." He pointed out two burly men, one with long brown hair tied back behind his neck and the other with shorter blond hair. "Antares Redfield and Ned Sampson will be our beaters." He next pointed to a willowy brunette, a shorter woman with black hair and another blond man. "Alexandra Perks, Siobhan O'Ryan and Adley Middleshire are our chasers. Naturally, I'll be keeper."

Oliver then motioned to take in the whole group. "Everyone, listen up. Thank you all for agreeing to play in tomorrow's game. I searched the records to find who had the best record from any team, any house in your positions for the past thirty years. I played against Antares several years and can tell you first hand he's the best beater you can imagine even as the old man of the team. He was one of the reasons Slytherin won the cup seven years running. You all know Harry's reputation – he was the youngest seeker in a hundred years. Alexandra and Adley were teammates for three years and led Hufflepuff to the Quidditch cup for the first time in eighty-two years. Ned and Siobhan are our young blood. We are the crème de la crème. I know we'll wipe the field."

Antares smirked. "Thanks for the vote of confidence. I noticed you left out the part about also being available this weekend and having a child who is currently at the school as part of the qualifications."

"Well … that will make victory even sweeter." He grinned. "I taught my daughter Marian everything she knows about flying so that's one opponent we can plan strategy against. She's a chaser. Antares, isn't your son on the school team too? What are his weaknesses?" Without waiting for an answer, he continued, "Come on, guys, mount your brooms – we have a long day ahead of us!"

Three and half hours later, Harry found himself tired and sore but happy at the Gryffindor table with Lily on one side, Albus on the other and James across from him. Antares had gone to the Slytherin table, Alexandra and Adley to Hufflepuff, and Siobhan to Ravenclaw. Ned sat next to a boy who looked just like him further down the Gryffindor table and Oliver was next to his daughter. As Harry talked with his children, he remembered being in their place, planning adventures with Ron and Hermione. Lunch ended too soon when Oliver tapped Harry on the shoulder.

Harry was even more sore following the afternoon's practice session. It had been a long time since he'd spent so much time in the air. e He HH

After a soothing shower and getting dressed, he sat down for a few minutes to rest on a bench in the locker room before beginning the long trek up to castle for dinner. Most of the others had already headed back, but Antares paused at the door and walked over to him.

"I'd forgotten the tedium of the practice," Antares said as he sat down. "You look like you're aching. Do you want a potion for sore muscles? I have some extra. Professor Snape always made sure we had more than enough when we were students and as I've gotten older I've realized how wise that was." He held out a vial.

Harry's response was automatic. "No thank you, I'll be fine." He saw Antares' face become emotionless in a way that reminded him of his old potions professor. Puzzled, he searched for a topic of mutual conversation and asked, "Is your son Slytherin too?"

Antares gave him a sharp look, then shrugged and drank the vial himself. "Yes, we're both Slytherin," he replied with resignation. He shook his head slightly. "It's been almost twenty-five years and people still negatively stereotype us. You may not think so, but it's Britain's loss. Many of us have already moved across the pond or to Australia. My family will be moving as soon as my son graduates." He abruptly stood up and started to walk out.

Harry bit back a groan as he rose up too quickly. "Hey, wait a second! It's not what you're thinking. I've learned the hard way never to accept potions from an unknown source."

Antares stopped and turned around. "Then you don't have any problems with me being on the team?"

"Of course not." They headed out the door together. Harry turned curiously towards Antares. "How did you like Professor Snape as Head of House? He terrified those of us in other houses, especially me at the time. After I spoke up for him at his trial I saw him a few times, but have since lost touch with him. There was too much history between us for us to become friends, but I respect him a lot. Without his courage we couldn't have won the Death Eater Wars."

Antares relaxed. He nodded and the two started up the hill. "Even being a Snake, I can't say I really knew the man. He did watch out for us, though, at least as much as he could. I graduated the year before you started school. The years I was on the Quidditch team, I had a total of seventeen other teammates. Eight of those became Death Eaters and either died in the war or are still in Azkaban. All but two of those were from Death Eater families. Those of you fighting you-know-who sadly wouldn't accept our help because of our house even though we could have prevented some bloodshed, but at least we stayed neutral. Looking back on it I think it's because Professor Snape subtly encouraged us to really see what was going on before committing ourselves. I know now he couldn't have done anything more without betraying his position."

"Do you stay in touch with him?" Harry asked as the two entered the Great Hall.

"He was never particularly sociable. Thinking about it, he probably didn't want to be put in a position where he was supposed to recruit us for he-who-must-not-be-named." He pointed to a boy with short brown hair waving in their direction with a wicked grin. "There's my son over there. You'll get to know him well tomorrow as he's the seeker on the school team." He inclined his head in farewell as he added, "I'll see you after dinner." Later, Harry would realize Antares had never answered his question.

The next morning brought cool but sunny weather. Harry ran into Ginny, Ron and Hermione as he was heading out of the castle to go to the Quidditch pitch. Giving Ginny a loving hug, he turned to the others with a big grin. "Ready for a fun-filled alumni weekend?"

Four hours later he was not smiling. The alumni team had lost, 420 to 310. Oliver gathered the team around him. "Good try everyone. It's a disappointment, of course, but these youngsters have practiced together for over a month and we just had one day to get to know each other's styles. Next year I'll try to get the alumni team together more than a day in advance." Harry could hear the dejection in his voice even with the encouraging words. As Oliver turned and walked towards the locker rooms, Harry looked at the other alumni players. "Anyone else want to visit the hospital wing before we eat?"

For lunch, the tables had been magically extended to seat all the parents as well as the students. Harry found Ginny sitting across from Ron and Hermione, with an open seat next to her. Their children were already eating in the seats next to them.

"Sorry about the loss, Dad," said James. "You sure looked good out there despite flying on your old Firebolt."

"Well, it was fun in any case, but I'm glad I stopped by the infirmary before coming here or I would be paying the price tonight." He poured himself some pumpkin juice. "No one on the student team was wearing house colors." He motioned down the table towards one of the chasers from the student team. "I know Marian is a Gryffindor and Antares' son is from Slytherin. What houses are the others from?"

Hugo looked up as he was dishing some buttery potatoes onto his plate. He motioned down the table. "Two other players are Gryffindor as well – Will's one of the other chasers and Tyler's a beater." He pointed towards students at the other tables who were the center of attention of their classmates. "Two are Ravenclaw, the keeper and the third chaser. The second beater is a Hufflepuff."

Ron snorted. "I'm sure that student Snake seeker cheated somehow. And Harry, did you see how the Slytherin beater on your team clearly missed the quaffle twice? I think the two of them were working together to guarantee an alumni defeat."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Don't be ridiculous, Ron. For what purpose?"

"I don't know, but I know what I saw."

Harry took a sip of his pumpkin juice. "I don't think so, Ron. Sure, not all of Antares' moves were perfect, but neither were mine nor those of anyone else on the team. Even in our prime we weren't perfect, and it's been a long time since any of us played on a regular basis. But I thought Alexandra scored some exceptional goals for our team."

To Hermione's complete boredom, by the end of lunch each move had been thoroughly dissected with magical animated figures in the air. The students had not hesitated to offer their criticism about both teams.

As they were about to leave the table, James caught his father's eye. "Dad, I need to get a new telescope. Someone tried to hex me in the hall and I dropped it. I attempted to fix it, but it's just not as precise as it used to be."

Albus got up. "And I need a new number two pewter cauldron. I just can't get some dried goop of some sort out of my current one."

Lily spoke up then. "Can I get another set of dress robes? My roommates say they look really old-fashioned and they clash with my hair."

Harry and Ginny looked at each other. "You need to be more careful with your things," Ginny responded, speaking for both of them. "We will!" came a chorus back as the three left the table.

Harry shook his head. "Can you imagine either of us expecting new school supplies or robes because they weren't perfect?"

Ginny snorted. "Remember how Ron had to use a broken wand for a year?" They headed up to join the rest of the parents.


	2. Dragon Plague

The first indication of trouble was two weeks later, when Albus mentioned in a letter that some of his friends were sick. Three days later, an owl from Lily delivered the news that classes were cancelled due to an outbreak of Dragon Pox. Harry and Ginny weren't particularly worried; although Dragon Pox had been lethal in the past, potions experts, building on advances made by Gunhilda of Gorsemoor and

Albus Dumbledore, had developed treatment remedies that eliminated all fatalities. The following day, Harry and Ginny got a letter from the Headmistress saying that the school was in quarantine due to what appeared to be a Dragon Pox epidemic. They began to feel uneasy as such quarantines were highly unusual in the wizarding world, and especially not for Dragon Pox which today was easily treated. Four more days had passed when the news suddenly turned chilling: the headline in The Daily Prophet was about the death of a Hogwarts student, name withheld, due to an unknown illness.

Preparing breakfast, Ginny casually glanced at the headlines. She froze for a moment and then, hands shaking, started to read the article. At her shriek, Harry rushed to the eat-in kitchen. She turned to him fearfully and showed him the front page. "Harry, what's going on? Dragon Pox hasn't been lethal since before the kids were even born. What if it's James or Albus or Lily or Rose or Hugo or …"

Harry hugged his wife. "Our kids are fine," he said, trying to reassure himself as much as Ginny, "otherwise we would have been informed. But I'll firecall McGonagall to see how they are doing." He tossed some floo powder into the flames, stuck his head in the fireplace, and called out, "Headmistress, Hogwarts."

When he saw the person behind the desk in the familiar office, he was shocked to see how worn she appeared. "Professor McGonagall?"

She sounded distracted as she looked up. "Harry, this is not a good time. Can I get back with you?"

"Sure, I understand. But can you just tell me if my kids are OK?"

"Harry, there are so many sick kids ... You'll be notified if anything serious happens." Just before Professor McGonagall raised her wand to kill the flames in her office, Harry thought he heard her mumble "I thought I closed the floo after talking to the Minister …"

Harry pulled back from the fireplace and looked at Ginny in disbelief. The Headmistress had never been so abrupt with either of them. That made them more worried than anything she had said.

Ginny pursed her lips. "I'm going to St. Mungo's to see if they can shed any light on what's going on." Grabbing the table to steady herself and sounding distraught she added, "Harry, what if something happens to our kids?"

Harry felt his stomach sink. This wasn't supposed to be, his children were supposed to be safe at Hogwarts. He nodded. "Let me know right away if you find out anything."

Ginny left the dishes and food as they lay on the counter and floo'd to St. Mungo's. There she found a multitude of parents demanding to see the head healer to find out what was happening at the school. She thought a moment, realizing this was not going to get her any answers, and then sidled around the crowd and made her way to the office of her friend Susan Bones, who worked in the magical maladies department.

Susan looked like she had not had a day off in weeks, but gave Ginny a weak smile. "I'm not surprised to see you here."

"Is there anything you can tell me, Susan? Please tell me the Prophet got the story wrong and it's not as bad as they say."

Susan stopped smiling. "I wish I could. From what we theorize, it seems a parent had Dragon Pox when he went to the alumni weekend three weeks ago, and another parent had the much rarer and generally benign Elven Plague. When the two viruses met, somehow a new, mutated one developed, which is responsible for a new disease we've never seen before that we've named Dragon Plague. Ginny, it's not good. The school is quarantined for a good reason. It's not public knowledge yet, and please don't tell anyone, but there were two additional deaths this morning. Nearly three quarters of the students are showing symptoms."

Ginny sat down heavily with trepidation and clutched her chest. "Oh, Merlin and Circe! Can anyone do anything?"

"We have our entire research department working on it, and have offered a thousand galleon reward for any outside potions expert who comes up with a cure. We put that out quietly two days ago because we didn't want to cause a panic, but later this morning we'll release that information more broadly in order to get a wider circle of potions experts working on a cure. Other than that … Ginny, I'm a nervous wreck and I don't know what to do." She pointed to a picture on her desk of herself with her arm around a boy with light brown hair waving at the camera. "My son Gordan is in his sixth year..." Her voice faltered and she stopped talking. She gave a short sob and paused for a deep breath.

"Is there any hope at all?"  
"The researchers seem stumped, though we do have one outside expert who yesterday asked for some blood samples, indicating he may be on the trail of a cure. His name's Douglas Carlson, and he's done great work for us in the past. He actually was key to the development of the current treatment for Dragon Pox. I'm afraid to get my hopes too high, though."

Ginny didn't remember making her way to Harry's office. He took one look at her face, pulled her into his office, shut the door and engulfed her in a loving embrace. "I'm afraid to ask what information you found." he whispered into her ear.  
Ginny related the grave news from Susan. Her husband bit his lip and replied, "This is worse than I ever thought. I pray our kids will be fine." He paused. "You know, when you say potions expert, I automatically think of Professor Snape. He's not just an expert, he's a Potions Master. I wonder if he's working on the cure too."

"Is there any way to contact him? He owes you his life and his freedom – you were the one who brought the medics back to the Shrieking Shack and then spoke up for him at his trial."

"I owe him so much I never wanted to bring that up, but I can't afford not to at this point. Ginny, kids are dying! The problem is I don't know how to reach him. I haven't heard anything about him for years."

Ginny looked thoughtful. "Maybe Hermione can help. I know she must be frantic with worry for Rose and Hugo. If she can't find him, no one can."

"Come on, we'll see her right now."

Harry and Ginny caught Hermione as she was about to leave her book-strewn office. When she saw the harried looks on their faces, she paled. She banished the piles of paper on the two chairs in front of her desk and sat down. "What have you heard?"

Together, Harry and Ginny explained what they had found out. Hermione blanched. "I didn't realize it was so serious. I know muggle diseases can mutate and spread quickly. I should have guessed the same would be true for wizard diseases."

Harry looked at her. "Hermione, I'm going to do whatever I can. That means making sure the best potions experts are working on a cure, and that means Snape has to be involved. Can you help us find him?"

"You know I will. I'll drop everything and start right now. Let's plan on meeting at your house tonight and we'll go over the latest developments."

Ginny nodded, and then added, "I'd like to invite Susan Bones too – you remember her? She's working at St. Mungo's now. Maybe she can add something."

Hermione nodded. "Give me until seven."

Harry and Ginny stood up. "Seven at our house." Harry paused. "I hope you're successful. I don't want to think about what could happen if this isn't stopped …"

"I'll be there."

DPDPDP

A few minutes before seven, Hermione apparated to Godric's Hollow. She felt the wards recognize her and let her in. She had arranged with Ron to meet her there and he was already seated in the comfortable family room on the leather sofa in front of the lit fireplace. Harry, Ginny, and Susan sat on chairs on either side. Hermione sat down next to Ron and took his hand briefly to squeeze before taking out her notes.

"Susan, what's the latest news about the outbreak?" Ginny asked nervously as soon as they were all seated.

Looking distraught, Susan paused to collect her thoughts. "So far, St. Mungo's, Hogwarts, and the Ministry have been able to downplay the seriousness of this plague, but it's worse than we feared." Her voice began to quiver. "If this behaves like typical contagious muggle diseases, the fact that it's so virulent normally means it will further mutate and run its course quickly, but only after it kills far too many of its first victims, who in this case are … our children at Hogwarts," she said with a catch in her voice.

A terrified Ron looked at her. "Is there any evidence that this was deliberately created?"

Susan shook her head. "No. We've traced down the wizards who had Dragon Pox and Elven Plague. They were close friends, so the two families spent a lot of time together during alumni weekend. Neither of the wizards had symptoms at the time, but the carrier of Elven Plague died two weeks ago. We originally thought he was one of the rare fatal victims to that generally benign disease. However, we now suspect he actually was the first victim of the new disease. We have confirmed that he was exposed to Elven Plague when visiting family in Wales. Both wizards were respected members of the community, with no reason to have any grudges or dark tendencies. Unfortunately, the first student death from Dragon Plague was the daughter of the wizard who had been exposed to Dragon Pox. As you can imagine, he's devastated over her death and is guilt-ridden over his role in the development of the new disease."

Ginny closed her eyes briefly to hold back tears. "How is the search for the cure coming?" she asked unsteadily.

"Our in-house people are looking at both potions and charms. Right now, they think potions offer the better hope for both the cure and a means to prevent infection. As I mentioned to Ginny this morning, St. Mungo's is offering a thousand galleon reward to the person or team that comes up with something that will help."

Looking at Ginny, Harry made a swift decision. "I'll double that. Make it a two thousand galleon reward." He turned back to Susan. "You mentioned someone seemed to be making progress. David Charleston, I think, or something like that?"

"You mean Douglas Carlson. He supplies some of our potions. He's been most innovative, coming up with many potion modifications and several new potions in the last decade or so, including, as I told Ginny, treatment for the non-mutated Dragon Pox."

Ron looked up sharply. "This may sound way out there, but is there any way this Carlson guy and Snape are the same person?"

Susan shook her head negatively. "Carlson has been a potioneer since the first Death Eater War. While Carlson and Snape collaborated on at least one potion that I know of, they also exchanged acrimonious letters in several potions journals over various developments and in response to each other's articles in the years between the wars."

Harry turned to Hermione. "Which means we need to make sure Professor Snape is working on a cure as well. Have you found any way to contact him?"

Hermione nodded. "Possibly, but there are a couple of problems. First, the last time Professor Snape published anything was ten years ago. He may no longer brew potions, live in Britain, or even be alive."

Harry looked shocked. "I didn't realize so much time had passed since I'd heard of him. I think I would have heard if he were no longer around, though. Let's go under the assumption he is."

Hermione nodded again. "That brings up the means of contact. I don't know if you'll like it, and I'm not even sure it will work…"

Harry looked at her grimly. "I'll try anything if it means that our children will be healthy."

Hermione took a long deep breath. "It means invoking the Life Debt he owes you."

Harry firmly shook his head no. "I don't know if he owes me anything. He saved my life so many times as a student…"

Ron broke in. "But that was in payment for the Life Debt he owed your Dad."

Hermione shook her head. "I think you both may be wrong. Harry, I know you want to think the best of your Dad, but when he stopped Snape from meeting Remus, he knew that by doing so he was preventing Sirius and Remus from being expelled, and maybe even Remus from being executed." Susan was looking curious, but didn't interrupt. "Thus, it wasn't a purely disinterested act, and therefore would not have invoked a Life Debt. And when he saved you at Hogwarts, he was acting as a responsible teacher, not as a bystander. He did not invoke a Life Debt since it was his job, just as healers don't invoke Life Debts when they save someone. However, when you went back for him after the battle, you had no possible gain and were under no obligation." Susan nodded at that.

Ginny looked confused. "But how will that help Harry find the Professor?"

Hermione took out a sheet of parchment. "If in fact Professor Snape owes you, then there's an old spell I found that you can use to locate him. This spell was created to prevent someone with a Life Debt from avoiding his or her responsibility."

"Are there any restrictions on what I can ask in payment of this debt?" asked Harry.

"Well, certainly having him search for a cure would fall within its boundaries, both legally and ethically."

Harry bit his lip and looked around. "Does anyone else have any other ideas?" he asked without much hope. When no one spoke up, he drew a deep breath and gave his wife's hand a brief squeeze, reassuring himself as much as her. "Ginny, I'll be back as soon as I can." He slowly stood up. "Everyone, wish me luck."

Ron rose and shook his hand. "Better you than me, mate, going to Snape to demand a favor. I don't know if there's anything that will prevent him from getting revenge afterwards in some way."

"Honestly, Ron," interrupted Hermione, "I doubt Professor Snape will mind helping."

"Yeah, but being willing to help and being forced to are two different things."

"Well, he may have thought he was being was forced to help us all our years at Hogwarts and things turned out."

"True, but I don't think he was happy about it, and an unhappy Snape is not easy to be around."

Harry took the parchment from Hermione. "It's not like I have a choice." He gave Ginny an encouraging kiss that said without words that everything would be fine and resolutely walked out the door to where he could apparate.

_Please review!_


	3. The Search

Harry found himself on a street outside a modest brick home in an older, working-class muggle neighborhood. The nearest streetlight was burnt out, and, though the area seemed safe, the deep shadows put his auror senses on alert. He felt multiple wards pass through him as he went up to the door and knocked. Feeling watched, he forced himself to relax, carefully keeping his hands visible and his wand tucked away but ready if needed.

A woman with shoulder-length wavy brown hair answered. She was holding a toddler in her left arm against her hip and was clearly expecting another child in a month or so. She peered at him curiously. "Yes, can I help you?" she inquired with a soft Irish lilt.

Harry was about to introduce himself when he saw a gangly youth stepping into the foyer. "Who is it, mom?" he asked inquisitively.

The youth's pale skin was a stark contrast to his stringy black hair and obsidian eyes. Those features, together with the boy's prominent nose … Harry sucked in a breath. "Professor!" he whispered to himself in total shock. His mind raced. If the professor had somehow de-aged himself it would account for his withdrawal from public life. But did he still have his memories, or were they replaced with those of a youth? If they had … his heart skipped a beat in fear. His children needed the professor's expertise.

"Potter!" the lad exclaimed.

"You remember me?" Harry felt his heart begin to race. Maybe there was hope yet….

"Of course I know you! I saw your picture in the Daily Prophet just a few weeks ago. You were the seeker on the alumni team. You were brilliant, even though you didn't catch the snitch."

As suddenly as his heart had begun to race, Harry's stomach began to sink knowing the adult professor would never have complimented him on anything, much less Quidditch. "Er, I had a question about potions, Professor…" he stammered out in despair.

"I can help you!" grinned the youth enthusiastically. Once again, Harry felt his hope begin to rise. Maybe the de-aging had affected only the professor's body. "I'm really good at potions. I can brew a Shrinking Solution all by myself!" The hope Harry had withered away once again. The Shrinking Solution was a third-year potion, and while impressive for a ten-year old, it did not signify the knowledge required to fight the Dragon Plague.

"Excuse me, but I don't think we've met, though my son seems to know who you are," interrupted the woman as the baby began to squirm in her arm.

"Mom, this is Harry Potter! Don't you remember I showed you his picture in the Prophet? He's an ace Quidditch player, and also an auror."

The woman looked suspiciously at him. "An auror? Are you here on official business?" she asked with trepidation.

"No, ma'am, well, actually I wanted to talk to the Professor but I guess I won't be needing to. Unless…" he thought a moment. Perhaps this woman knew how to reach Professor Snape's colleague. The de-aged professor wasn't going to be able to help, but at least Harry could make sure Carlson had everything he needed as he searched for the cure. "By chance do you know Douglas Carlson?"

The boy started to laugh. "Sure I…"

"Stephen!" his mother scolded. The boy quickly stopped, looking rebuked. His wide welcoming smile had quickly turned into a crestfallen frown.

Harry shook his head in confusion. "I'm sorry, let's start over. We haven't gotten off to a very good start. Look, I'm just trying to find someone with potions knowledge to help fight an epidemic that could devastate our world. May I come in to explain?"

The woman cautiously looked him over. Making a decision, she stood aside and motioned him in to the small family room on her right. "I'm Nuala, you've already met my all-too-talkative son Stephen, and this wee one is Patrick." Harry saw ceiling-high, cluttered bookshelves lining the far wall. Three worn but comfortable-looking chairs and a small sofa faced each other around a wooden coffee table. On it, pieces from a wizarding chess set were muttering about the next move in the obviously interrupted game. Nuala motioned Harry to sit down and at her glance the chess pieces fell silent. "When you say 'our world,' do you mean your wizarding one?"  
"Aren't you a witch?" Harry asked in surprise.

Nuala put the wiggling Patrick down. He toddled over to the table and quickly grabbed a pawn that had already been removed from play. The piece immediately began to complain about being roughly handled by small, dirty fingers, its protests muffled by the boy's hand. Nuala gently took his hand and replaced the pawn with a stuffed kneazle she saw on the floor by the side of the chair. The toy kneazle began to purr, capturing the boy's attention and making him squeal in delight.

Nuala lovingly looked at both of her children. "No, I'm not a witch, but since my husband is a wizard I know something of what's happening in your world. I've heard about the school being quarantined." She put her hands on her bulging belly and shook her head. "It's terrible news about the unfortunate children there."

"That's why I'd like to contact Carlson. I hear he's closer to a cure than anyone else and I want to make sure he has every resource he needs."

Stephen perked up and looked at his mom. "Mom, please can I tell him…"

"Stephen!" his mother chided.

Harry looked between the two. It was obvious the two knew Carlson well. Could he be Stephen's uncle or godfather? If he was teaching Stephen and the boy had retained some of the adult professor's innate ability, that would account for Stephen's precociousness in potions.

Harry looked at the youth. Stephen was obviously more willing to provide the information he needed than Nuala. Perhaps he could appeal to the boy's desire to help. "Professor, I don't want to bother your friend. All I want to do is to make sure Carlson has everything he needs to find a cure. Please, can you tell him I'd like to talk with him for only a few minutes?"

Harry was startled to hear a familiar deep chuckle behind him. He jumped up and swiftly whirled around to find Professor Snape leaning casually against the wall, his arms folded and his wand in his hand. "Professor!" he exclaimed in complete shock.

"Potter," replied Snape almost mockingly. "Now that we have the pleasantries out of the way, why are you here?"

Harry shook his head to help clear his thinking. Doing a double-take, he looked at Stephen and then returned his gaze to his potions professor. "He looks just like you."

Snape raised an eyebrow. "I see either auror training is as abysmal as it used to be or you continue to be a mediocre student. I assume you realize that children often look like a parent. After all, you were repeatedly reminded of that in your youth and I understand that your eldest son is told the same. You always were quick to jump to conclusions. Why would you possibly think I would de-age myself? Why in Merlin's name would I choose to relive my youth even if that were possible?"

Harry's brain began to function again. "I… How… Why…" He stopped and took in a deep breath. Harry, he told himself, you are a grown man, an auror! Calm down, compose yourself. "Professor, I need to talk to you just for a few moments."

Snape gave him a piercing gaze. "There's only one way you could have found this house. Nuala, could you take the children?"

Nuala tilted her head questioningly, but nodded. "Of course, love. Stephen, come with me." She and the two boys left the room, a reluctant Stephen being dragged out by his arm.

"Sit, Potter. What have you come to demand? An untraceable poison? Or do you need a service, someone to disappear maybe?" Harry couldn't tell if Snape was bitter or eager.

"I need a potions expert."

"So it's a poison you seek. What symptoms do you desire? Or should it be painless?"

"Nothing like that, sir," Harry said aghast. "Your wife said that she was aware of what's happening at Hogwarts, so I assume you are too."

"I am a wizard, Potter. I do my business in the wizarding world. I do stay current on wizarding events." He paused and glanced towards the door through which his family had just gone. "Is there any reason what you are about to say cannot be heard by my son?" He raised his voice slightly. "He's decided to eavesdrop, a matter which I will be discussing with him after you leave."

Harry looked over to the door and saw it slowly open. Stephen looked at him imploringly before looking at his father. "Mum just wanted to find out if you wanted some tea."

"No tea is necessary. Potter?"

Harry started to answer that in fact tea would be fine before he realized Snape was waiting for him to answer his question. "Stephen can stay if you have no objections."

"He's an auror, Dad," Stephen proclaimed. "He's not going to ask you to do anything illegal."

Snape snorted. "I thought I taught you to be more worldly than that, boy. In any case, Potter, you're wasting my valuable time. What is it you expect me to do?"

Harry told himself to focus. He'd been caught off-guard since the door to the house had opened, but Snape was right, time was wasting. "St. Mungo's is desperately searching for a cure for Dragon Plague, and they've offered a thousand galleon reward to anyone who finds one. I've doubled that. I know what you can do, Professor. I want you to look for one."

"So just to be clear, Potter, if I look for a cure for Dragon Plague, you will consider my Life Debt to you paid."

"Yes. Professor, my three children are at Hogwarts, as are those of many people I care about."

"And if I research a cure but am not the one to find it?"  
"I'll still consider the debt paid in full as long as you tell me you have done all you can."

"Very well, Potter, I accept." A shimmer of magic briefly swirled around them.

Stephen looked at his father like an eager puppy. "Dad, can I get ten percent of the reward for helping? That will give me 200 galleons, and I'll have enough to buy the Zephyr that I'm saving for."

The professor turned to his son. "I think not. Providing manual labor to prepare the ingredients and stirring occasionally is only a small part of potion making. It is coming up with the possibilities and the careful blending of ingredients which is the heart of brewing." He paused. "One percent and not a knut more."

Stephen carefully thought for a moment, mentally doing some math, and then looked back at his dad. "How about if I prepare the ingredients and starting tonight I take both the nine p.m. and midnight stirrings for five percent. That should give me just enough."

Harry looked between the two, fascinated by their interaction. It was obvious Stephen liked to earn money by helping his father.

Snape nodded. "But if your grades at school suffer, the deal is off."

"No problem, Dad. They haven't gone down yet."

In Harry's mind, something clicked. "You're already working on a cure, aren't you?"

Snape smirked. "Potter, as usual you acted before knowing all the facts. If you weren't smart enough to ask prior to offering to clear my Life Debt, then I didn't see any reason to bring it up."

Harry thought about what Snape had said and then started to laugh. "I know I should be upset that I was fooled in a way, but all I can feel is relief that you're already tackling the disease. Are you collaborating with Douglas Carlson? I understand he's making progress."

Snape's smirk widened. "Perhaps. You did say it doesn't matter who comes up with the cure."

"That's right. I'm just glad you're working on it." Harry paused. "You know, I didn't even know you owed me a Life Debt until earlier this evening when I learned I could use it to find you. In fact, I thought all the times you saved me as a student put me in debt to you if anything. I certainly wouldn't have bothered you over something less critical."

Snape raised his eyebrow. "Who found the spell for you? Your know-it-all friend Miss Granger-Weasley?"

Harry looked abash, giving the professor his answer.

Snape smirked. Turning his attention to his son he said in his deep, nasally voice, "If that is all, Potter, you may leave. Stephen and I have more important things to get back to in our lab."

Please review!


	4. Looking for Answers

Returning home, Harry found Susan had already left but Ron and Hermione were still nervously waiting to hear if his undertaking had been successful. Ginny was sitting with them in the family room. A pot of tea and a half eaten coffee cake sat on the table in front of them. Ginny jumped up and looked at him anxiously. "Did the spell work and were you able to find Professor Snape? Will he help us?"

Hugging his wife, Harry gave Hermione an appreciative glance. "Did you ever know of a spell of Hermione's that didn't work?" Smiling, he turned back to his spouse. "To answer your questions, yes on all counts." He and Ginny sat down next to each other on the couch as he continued, "Would you believe Snape's married now, with two sons and another child on the way? His oldest son looks so much like him that at first I thought he'd de-aged himself somehow. Of course I managed to make a fool of myself before he revealed himself. His wife's not like him at all. She's really nice. She's a muggle and they live in a muggle neighborhood. Thankfully, he still brews potions. He was already working on a cure, though of course being Snape he didn't bother to mention that before I told him I'd absolve him of the Life Debt if he did so."

Ron snorted. "Typical Slytherin."

Hermione gently elbowed Ron. "The important thing is that he's searching for a remedy."

Ginny gave a tremendous sigh a relief. "So now we wait and pray for success."

Harry nodded. "You know, though all I really care about is that a cure is found, I hope in a way that Professor Snape is the one who finds it. I have a feeling they could use the money." He paused. "I liked his older son Stephen; he takes after his mother. He's helping Snape. If they're successful, the Professor promised to pay him 100 galleons from the reward, which Stephen said would give him just enough to buy a Zephyr."

Ron whistled. "Even with the release of the Mercury, a new Zephyr costs at least 265 galleons. The kid must have been saving his money for a while."

Hermione stood up. "On that note, it's time for us to get home before you start comparing the features of various brooms and then digress to last Sunday's Quidditch matches."

DPDPDP

Fear such had not been seen in wizarding Britain since the days of Voldemort spread swiftly over the next few days. Each day the news was grimmer, with the paper reporting another death or two at Hogwarts. Parents feared the approach of strangers in official robes, dreading getting word that their child had succumbed to Dragon Plague. Rumors abounded that the plague had escaped the school's quarantine. People began to avoid contact with each other and especially those with children at Hogwarts, fearing that they too carried the disease. By the sixth day, widespread paranoia had slowed business to a near standstill and Diagon Alley was practically deserted.

Harry was eating breakfast when the owl delivering the Daily Prophet flew through the window. He grimaced, not wanting to read about the tragic latest deaths, and tossed the paper aside. The owl screeched at him in reproach. Startled, Harry tore his bacon and held it out for the bird which ignored it only to let out an even more penetrating screech while kicking the paper with its talons. The Prophet unrolled and Harry saw the banner proclaiming, "Dragon Plague Cure Found!" With a sudden whoosh of air, the owl flew away as Harry eagerly grabbed the paper and began to read the article. "St. Mungo's announced last night that the cure for Dragon Plague has been successfully administered to students at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Following the tragic death of fourteen students, renowned researcher Douglas Carlson …" He jumped up and excitedly shouted, "Ginny! Great news! They've found a cure!"

Ginny ran into the kitchen and hugged him in joy. "Thank Merlin! Any details?"

Harry, who still grasped the newspaper in his hand, quickly scanned the rest of the article. "No, just that a remedy has been given to the students and that it was Carlson who came up with it." They held on tightly to each other overcome in jubilant relief, the built-up tension of the dreadful past week slowly draining away. Harry shuddered just thinking about how close they had been to losing their children. After several minutes, they both sat down. Harry looked over at his wife. "You know, Ginny, I really thought Snape as a Potions Master would have been the one to discover the antidote potion. I had the impression that he was making progress." He shrugged. "You know, I think I'd like to meet Carlson and thank him in person."

Ginny nodded in agreement. "We all owe him so much. Maybe Susan can get you his address. I can ask her over lunch."

Harry smiled. "That would be great."

DPDPDP

St. Mungo's lobby was completely different than a week ago. Instead of the panicked chaos of frantic parents, Ginny had to make her way through the usual daily bedlam of wizards and witches with extra, too few, or odd looking appendages; skin and hair with textures, colors and patterns which could not be found in nature; and making noises that should not be possible to make. She edged her way around a witch snorting fire out her nose every time she let out a breath and made her way to Susan's office.

Susan beamed at her, jumped up to walk around her desk, and ecstatically grabbed Ginny's hands. "You saw the news? Isn't it great? We got word this morning that even the sickest student is beginning to recover."

"That truly is fantastic news! I'm so relieved - I've hardly slept this week. Every time an owl came to the window I feared one of the kids had perished."

"Same with me, Ginny. I never want to go through another week like this last one. I feel like celebrating. Are you free for lunch?"

"Sure. But before we go, I have a favor to ask. Could you get me the address for Douglas Carlson? Harry wants to thank him in person."

"Well, I'm really not supposed to give out personal information, but …" With a wave of her wand, a file appeared on her desk. Susan then waived her wand at the file, frowned, and did it again. Perplexed, she looked up at Ginny. "This is odd. It's not giving me an address."

Ginny thought for a moment. "Then did St. Mungo's send the reward directly to his vault at Gringotts?"

Opening the file, Susan scanned through it and shook her head after a moment looking confounded. "No. He's a strange duck. It appears that whatever he earns from us goes directly to the scholarship fund at Hogwarts."

"Even the entire two thousand galleon reward for finding the cure for Dragon Plague?" Susan nodded. "The record indicates we transferred the funds to Hogwarts this morning."

Ginny shrugged. "He must be independently wealthy. I'll let Harry know. Maybe he can get Carlson's contact info from the Headmistress. So what are you in the mood to eat?"

DPDPDP

Harry looked blankly at Ginny. "What scholarship fund?"

"You know the one for students too poor to pay for their fees, books, robes, and other supplies. I hated being a scholarship student, and I know Ron did too."

Harry continued to blankly stare at her. "There's a scholarship fund?"

Ginny sighed. "Yes, Harry. I think Percy and Audrey use it for their kids."

Harry looked even more lost. "Percy and Audrey? But they're Weasleys!"

Ginny gave Harry a grin. "That's one of the reasons I love you. You never noticed their robes, or those of their kids? You never noticed how Audrey never joins us on any of our big trips?"

"Well, yeah, but she always says she needs to take care of her mom. She always wishes everyone a good time. What's wrong with their robes?"

"Nothing, they're just not as … ah … as nice as everyone else's."

"But Percy and Audrey have good jobs."

Ginny shook her head. "They both have low-paying Ministry jobs. You know Percy hasn't been promoted for years. Joining us only at the last minute at the Battle for Hogwarts certainly didn't endear him to the general public. Most still see him as a sycophant of you-know-who's forces. I admire Audrey – she's stuck with him, but as a result she's been tarred with the same brush. Both are working barely above entry level, and probably will be for life. They stay with the Ministry as a way to make amends for the year Percy worked there during the Thicknesse administration."

Harry blinked. "We should think of a way to help their kids - they shouldn't suffer because of their parents' misdeeds." He looked thoughtful. "I wonder why we've never been asked to contribute to the Hogwarts fund."

Ginny bit her lip in contemplation. "Remember how as a wedding gift Hermione developed a charm for us? It allows only owls with desired mail to come through to us. Others are redirected and the mail is destroyed after a week. She called it an anti-spim charm or something like that. She told us the charm wasn't perfect and that we needed to have someone at least skim through the envelopes before they were destroyed to make sure we weren't missing anything important. We did that for several months and nothing was found that we needed to read. We then assumed the charm was working perfectly so we stopped having the pile reviewed. Hermione's charm is still in effect. My guess is that pleas for money from any organization including Hogwarts get redirected and eventually destroyed."

"Oh, right." Harry shook his head. "Well, let me see if the Headmistress can give me any leads for our mysterious, generous potions expert."

DPDPDP

Twenty minutes later, Harry was in Professor McGonagall's office. She looked tired, but triumphant. "I hope to Merlin never to have another two weeks like the last two. This is the first relaxing cup of tea I've had since the Dragon Plague broke out."

Harry nodded sympathetically. "I can't imagine what it was like to have the weight of responsibility for the wellbeing of the entire school on your shoulders. As it was, Ginny and I were a nervous wreck worrying about our children."

McGonagall shook her head. "It was a nightmare. I feel like I'm only now waking up. So how can I help you, Harry?"

Harry accepted a cup of Earl Grey. "I was wondering if you can help me contact Douglas Carlson. I wanted to thank him personally."

McGonagall sipped her own tea. "Harry, I'd help you if I could. In fact, I'd go with you to express my deepest gratitude. However, I've never met him even though he's our scholarship fund's biggest benefactor. He's given faithfully for the past twenty years. However, he's never come to the appreciation dinners and rejects any offer to put a scholarship in his name."

Harry nibbled at a biscuit. "Speaking of which, I never received an owl requesting a contribution to the scholarship fund. I didn't even know you had one."

McGonagall gave him a questioning look. "We send out a letter once a year to all the alumni. Generally we don't hear back until several decades have passed from graduation, when alumni are at the stage in life when they start to contemplate what they have accomplished and the legacy they desire to leave."

Harry leaned forward. "Because we were inundated with owls from well-wishers we didn't know, con artists seeking money, and anonymous people who wished we had lost making threats, ever since we were married we had mail that didn't come from friends and family go to a dead letter box. I wish I had known. I understand what it's like to have second hand clothes from my time with the Dursleys, even if my kids don't. I'll be happy to make a generous contribution. Please add a personal note to the next solicitation. We'll be sure to get it then."

McGonagall took another sip of tea. "I'm happy to hear that, Harry. I just assumed you weren't interested in giving at this time and didn't want to bother you. I'll do that in the future. Thanks to the two thousand galleons we just received from Carlson, the scholarship fund is in good shape for the first time in a long time, but there are always new students that require assistance."

"So you don't have a suggestion as to how I could contact him?"  
McGonagall put down her teacup. She looked thoughtful, and then determined as if she had made a decision. "He and Severus worked together in the years between the Death Eater Wars and even for maybe a dozen years afterwards. Perhaps they have stayed in touch. It's a long shot and I don't know if he'll appreciate me asking, but would you like me to owl Severus and inquire?"

Harry blinked. "You can reach Professor Snape? When I was searching for him last week, people said he might no longer be alive as no one has heard from him in a long time. It took a lot of research to find him."

McGonagall laughed. "I'm not surprised most people think he's dead. I think that Severus planned it that way." She turned grim. "He stepped out of the spotlight about a decade ago because of how people treated him."

Harry was shocked. "But why would that be a problem? He was – is – a hero, and fully exonerated."

"To those in the know, yes. But too many people saw him as a murdering Death Eater who got away, even with your testimony. In the early years after the second Death Eater War, I know he was often spat upon in the streets and fanatics from both sides repeatedly tried to hex him in Diagon Alley. I think he just got tired of having to fully occlude every time he went into the wizarding world. As a half-blood, he was fully comfortable living in the muggle world and he eventually married a muggle. When his first son was born, he began to limit his contact with the wizarding world in order to shield them from the hatred. He still makes potions, but only for select customers. He has two sons now; both are on the Hogwarts register."

Harry absentmindedly refilled his teacup while thinking that over. "Isn't Nuala a lovely person? And I can tell Stephen will be an enthusiastic student. He seems to have his father's talent with potions. Since they already have two boys, I hope the one on the way will be a girl. I love my boys, but I can tell you from experience that a little girl steals a father's heart."

McGonagall froze, her tea halfway to her lips before she carefully set it down on the table. "You met his family? I'm going to give that git a tongue lashing he'll never forget. All this time he's never invited me … And on top of that, not to tell me that Nuala's expecting again …"

Harry held up a hand. "No, no, it is nothing like that." He looked slightly abashed. "I used a Life Debt spell to find him at his home."

"Harry! I'm ashamed of you. How could you do something like that! After all he's done for us, all that he was forced to do by you-know-who and Albus, you forced him to do something else?" She shook her head in disapproval. "Why, Harry?"

Stiffening his back, Harry set down his cup. "I have no regrets. I asked him to research a cure for Dragon Plague, and told him that his debt would be clear if he did so, even if he was not the one to come up with the antidote. I'm not ashamed of asking him and I'd do it again. I'm sorry if he felt resentful, but my three children are worth it." He paused. "So you were saying you're in regular contact with him?"

"Yes, he's the primary supplier of our infirmary," McGonagall replied, still a bit stiff.

Trying to take the chill out of the conversation, Harry mentioned with a smile, "I'm glad he finally found someone with whom to share his life. I'm surprised, though, that he married a muggle."

Thawing, McGonagall picked up a biscuit. "I'm not. Every witch knew what he had done as a Death Eater thanks to the publicity after the war. The witches who were fascinated by his background were those he didn't want to go near, and he certainly wouldn't date much less marry anyone who felt sorry for him. No, a muggle was the only choice."

Harry nodded in understanding. "You said you've never met his wife and children?"

McGonagall looked wistful. "I wish I had. I chat with Severus when he delivers potions to us. He never brings his family, though he talks about them. I think he wants to protect them."

"From who?" Harry asked confused. "There shouldn't be anyone here at Hogwarts who hates Professor Snape. Everyone here, at least, should know he did what was needed for us to win."

"No, that's not it, Harry." McGonagall looked at him sadly. "Severus wants to shield his sons from the general prejudice and hostility that still exists towards Slytherins as long as he can. Unfortunately, while making deliveries he's heard more than one snide comment by students in other houses that happened to be in the infirmary. We on the staff take action when we hear about such things, but we can't stop it completely."

Harry nodded in sudden comprehension. "During the alumni weekend, Antares mentioned that neutral Slytherin families were emigrating."

McGonagall shook her head. "Our world has always been stronger for having wizards with different attributes. I fear what will happen if we lose those with ambition and drive. I try to do what I can to lessen the prejudice during the seven years I have the children and I've made some progress, but I wish I could do more. Progress is too slow. Those of us trying to stop the distrust need more support."

Finishing his tea, Harry stood up and held out his hand. "I know you're busy, Headmistress, and I need to get back to work. Thank you for seeing me. I'll ask Professor Snape if he will introduce me to Carlson, and after that I'll leave him alone."

McGonagall smiled at him. "Good luck to you, Harry. When you meet Carlson, tell him I too would very much like to thank him in person for his generosity over these many years and to express my deepest gratitude in finding the cure. And tell Severus he should bring Stephen the next time he makes a delivery."

_Reviews are welcome! _


	5. The Unexpected Visit

That evening, Harry apparated back to Snape's house. Once again, he felt the wards recognize him as he approached the house. This time Snape answered the door.

"Potter, I don't recall inviting you back for tea. There was no need to come back to release me from my Life Debt. I only let you through the wards again on the off-chance that you did not realize that. Unless you are here on auror business, you may leave now."

As he began to shut the door in Harry's face, Nuala and Stephen came into the room. Harry didn't know what to think when Stephen immediately turned around and departed the foyer. Simultaneously, Nuala took ahold of Snape's arm, preventing the further closure of the door and warmly smiled at their visitor. "Hello again, Harry. Severus, perhaps we could have a spot of tea with Harry? Stephen has talked about him quite a bit and I'd like a chance to get to know him better."

Snape reluctantly opened the door. Nuala walked with Harry to the small kitchen table. "I understand you were one of Severus' students." Snape gave Potter a warning glare that dared him to divulge anything.

Harry sat down. Looking warily at Snape, he nodded. "For six years." With unpleasant memories swirling in his mind, Harry stumbled, frantically searching for something nice to say. "Ah..., he certainly maintained order in the classroom," he added diplomatically.

"Good, now we've all become friends. I believe it's time for you to go, Potter," Snape interjected.

Nuala turned to Snape as she set the tea and cups on the table and was about to respond with her desire for Harry to stay when Stephen came bursting into the room proudly carrying a new Zephyr 500. "Look, Mr. Potter! Isn't she a beauty? I know she's not a Mercury, but Zephyrs are supposed to be faster in sharp turns. As a seeker, what do you think?"

Looking at Stephen in relief at the change in topic, Harry enthusiastically inspected the broomstick. "Wow. She certainly is a beauty and with her sleek lines she makes my Firebolt look old fashioned. I certainly would have had a much better chance at catching the snitch at the alumni game if I was flying one." He looked up at the boy. "To get the maximum speed out of her, you'll need to treat her right. Do you know how to take care of her?"

"Yes, sir! I didn't have quite enough money to buy the polishing and maintenance kit with the broom, but Dad's going to let me keep the profits of potions that I help him brew until I do, and in the meantime he leant me the money. I should be able to pay him back in six months."

Snape looked at his son in pride. "With interest," he added matter-of-factly.

"Of course, Dad!" Stephen rolled his eyes.

"You must be quite good in potions already," said Harry, searching desperately for a way to keep Nuala from asking further questions about his relationship with his old professor, knowing that if he said anything embarrassing Ginny would never have a body to bury, or at least he'd be so humiliated in turn that voluntarily disappearing would seem to be a viable alternative.

"I am! I was named after the famous alchemist Stephen of Egypt, you know."

"No, I didn't know, but I'm not surprised. Your Dad is one of the best Potion Masters in the world." Stephen smiled with pride for his father as Nuala beamed, affectionately looking at her husband.

Surprisingly, Snape seemed to warm up at that. "Thank you, Potter. Now, before my son talks your ear off about Quidditch, why did you come back?"

"Actually, Professor, I just wanted to get contact information for Carlson. I owe him the lives of my three children and wanted to thank him in person."

"I'm sure the two thousand galleon reward he received was more than enough thanks," Snape replied dryly.

Harry bit back a retort about being jealous. "Well, would you at least pass along my desire to thank him in person?"  
"You assume he'd like to meet the famous Harry Potter?" Snape was back to being antagonistic.

"No, I assume he'd like to meet a parent of three children whom he saved."

Stephen looked at his father. "Dad, why don't you…"

Snape glared at his son, who abruptly ceased talking.

In the ensuing silence, Harry searched the room for something to look at. His eyes were suddenly attracted by the motions of Stephen, who had started to move his broom as if he were soaring in a Quidditch game fast on the tail of a snitch. Suddenly he remembered a conversation from his last visit.

"Stephen, didn't your dad promise you five percent of the reward? Carlson won the reward; did your dad pay you anyway?" he asked curiously.

Stephen looked at his father and then his mother. "I, uh, …"

Snape scowled at Harry. "Yes, Potter, I paid Stephen for his time."

Something seemed to click in Harry's mind. He paused as he thought over previous conversations and then spoke slowly as he voiced his growing suspicion. "Susan Bones said you and Douglas Carlson collaborated on some potions, and that you also critiqued each other's work. But she mentioned you did so in articles and letters; she never said you were seen together. If I were establishing a new identity, I'd use polyjuice to be seen in the same place as my alter ego; seeming to work together or in competition would accomplish the same thing. She also said Carlson's record went back to the first Death Eater War, which is when you first began to spy. Spies often use false identities. Professor, … by chance … are you Douglas Carlson?"

Harry thought the silence that followed his deduction would never end. Snape stared at him, his expression unreadable. Please don't tell me I put my foot in my mouth again, Harry miserably thought. He fought hard to resist squirming like a rebuked student. Finally, the stillness was broken when Patrick started to cry in a room down the hall. The very pregnant Nuala gently squeezed her husband's hand and slowly arose to attend the baby. Snape watched his wife leave, then looked at his son and finally back to Harry. The poker-faced Professor seemed to come to a decision and let out a long sigh. He drummed his fingers on the table twice and began to speak.

"Potter, when I became a spy, I knew that my luck was finite. Albus helped me create a bolt hole should I need to escape. He doctored school records, creating the identity for a student named Carlson. We made him a Slytherin so that I wouldn't be tripped up with my lack of knowledge about other houses at the time and gave him NEWTS in potions so that I could stay in my field." Nuala came back into the room holding Patrick, who was rubbing his eyes, and sat down with him on her lap.

Continuing, Snape added, "I've since created a few additional alter egos of my own that no one knows about, but I always liked Douglas Carlson for a couple of reasons. I like being able to work as a potions expert and being able to keep a toe in the community with which I am most familiar. Also, I have to admit my ego likes the name. Douglas means 'dark' and Carlson comes from 'Charles' son' – any son of the then-Prince Charles would be a prince, though much of the purebred wizarding world would not understand that connection. Hence, the 'Dark Prince.' Juvenile, I know, but I created the persona when I was twenty or so. As I got older I learned to be more subtle; the names of my other alter egos were randomly selected."

"Professor," Harry hesitantly asked, "why does Douglas make the contributions to the Hogwarts scholarship fund? Why don't you do it under your own name?"

"Potter, you may like publicity," Snape ignored Harry's snort, "but I do not. All I care about are the results. When I was a student, I was tormented because I was poor. As a professor, I saw too many students still being harassed for the same reason." He looked at Nuala who was gently tickling a giggling Patrick with a puppet, and at Stephen, still admiring his broom. "It may not look like it to you, Potter, but we have everything we need as a family." Turning back to Harry, he continued. "I know most students hated my potions class and thought I was an uncaring teacher, but I dared not show a different face if I were to remain in the Dark Lord's favor."

To Harry's surprise, Snape leaned over and ruffled Stephen's hair. "By now helping underprivileged students blend in during their years at Hogwarts, I can make some amends. Nothing would be gained by attaching my own name to the contributions. No good would come from publicity in any case – most would simply say I was trying to buy my way back into a society I have no intention of rejoining. Nuala understands I have debts to repay, and fully supports me." Snape's wife nodded in agreement. "That's why I'll miss the anonymity of Douglas. I'll be sorry to say goodbye to him after today."

Harry shook his head. "There's no reason to do that, Professor. I promise I won't tell anyone what I found out today." He grinned. "I'll even casually mention that I ran into Douglas Carlson when I visited you today and passed on my gratitude and that of others. After all, that's the truth." He turned serious. "That's the least I can do for you."

Severus looked at him appraisingly and then at his wife. "Nuala, perhaps some biscuits with our tea would not be amiss."

Nuala smiled while rising. "Of course, love," she replied. "Even better, I'll get the cake I baked this afternoon." She handed Patrick to her husband. "Do you like chocolate, Harry?" When Harry nodded, she went to the cupboard.

Turning back to Harry, Snape leaned forward. "Potter, Since the Life Debt was paid with James' recovery, I'll consider your silence as payment for saving your second child as well."

Harry snorted. "That sounds like I still owe you for Lily."

"I'd heard you named your daughter after your mother." He looked as if he were about to ask a question, but after glancing at Nuala, who was now placing the cake and plates on the table, he stopped.

"She's a beautiful girl with a big heart," said Harry softly, responding to the unasked question. Changing topics, he asked, "But if you gave the full two thousand galleons to Hogwarts, how did you pay Stephen?"

He knew he had asked a wrong question when he once again received a death glare. "I do earn a living, Potter, and can certainly afford to raise my children."

Harry held up his hands. "You're right – none of my business." Again, searching for a way to change the topic, he hesitantly asked, "So, what would you ask in payment for Lily's life?"

When Patrick reached out for some cake, Snape broke off a corner with his fork and tenderly fed it to his son. He looked over to Stephen and then at Nuala before looking back at Harry. "You asked for something simple from me. I'll do the same. Potter, I would like you to wear a Slytherin scarf to the next Quidditch game at Hogwarts. I want you to stand and cheer for the Slytherin team like you really mean it."

Harry's fork stopped in mid-air. Of all the things Harry had expected Snape to ask, this had not been a possibility. Dumbfounded, he blinked. "Come again?"

Snape sighed. "Potter, I don't know if you're aware of it, but it's been twenty-four years since the Second Death Eater War, and yet Slytherins are still treated with suspicion." Harry nodded. "This is true even though Death Eaters came from every house, and that not all Slytherins supported the Dark Lord." He frowned. "I was very bitter at first that Minerva did not allow any Slytherins to fight in the Battle of Hogwarts, though after a long night of fire whiskey and arguments I now understand she thought she had no choice since she did not know whom she could trust as none had trained with you." He glared at Harry. "I still resent the fact that YOU did not allow any Slytherins in Dumbledore's Army. Just like many people today, you assumed no Slytherins could be trusted. People followed your lead."

Harry leaned back. Even after learning that Slytherin families were emigrating, he had never thought that it could in part be traced, even if only in a small way, back to something he had done as a teen over twenty-five years ago. "But at the time, I didn't know…"

Snape interrupted Harry's attempt to explain. "Perhaps not, and Albus certainly didn't help by not reaching out to the neutral Slytherins when I certainly couldn't do so without revealing my sympathies. Regardless, this prejudice led to what we have today, a country that is losing wizards and witches with ambitious, driven personalities, those who are best able to set long term goals, map out steps to reach those objectives, and then do what is necessary to achieve them."

Snape fed the eager Patrick another piece of cake. "I learned a long time ago that while it can be helpful to know how we got to a position we're in now, what is more important is to fix what we can. Again, it is the result that matters. If you, the Boy-Who-Lived, the Boy-Who-Saved-Wizarding-Britain," Harry shuddered at the sobriquets, "cheer on the Slytherin team, it will be seen as public acceptance of the house."

Harry put a finger to his lips and thought for a few moments. Nuala wiped Patrick's chocolate-covered face while Stephen took advantage of his distracted mother to help himself to another slice. Snape eyed his older son but did not say anything. Nuala took Patrick from her husband's lap, who was waiting patiently for Harry's response.

Making a decision, Harry looked intently at Snape. "I'll do it, but on two conditions."

Snape smirked. "How Slytherin of you. What are your conditions?"

"First, I will not cheer Slytherin if it is playing Gryffindor. If I cheer under those conditions, people will think I've been imperious'd."

Snape nodded. "A valid point. Fortunately, the next game is a Slytherin-Ravenclaw match."

Looking startled, Harry asked, "You keep up with the Hogwarts schedule?"

With a fond look at his son, Snape replied, "Stephen makes sure I do. And your second condition?"

Harry steeled himself. "I want you to sit next to me."

"Absolutely not, Potter!" Snape responded in a firm voice.

"Why not? I know you may never want to live fully in the wizarding world, but you shouldn't have to avoid it. Sitting next to me in front of a large crowd will show everyone that we are friends," Snape snorted, but Harry ignored him, "and that you, the ultimate Slytherin," at this Snape smirked, "are proud of what you did."

Snape sat back to think. An excited Stephen took advantage of the pause in conversation to ask, "Dad, can I go with you? I've never been to Hogwarts or even seen a real Quidditch game. Please? Oh, please say yes!"

Snape steepled his fingers together. He glanced briefly at Stephen. "I agree the potential benefits of me being there outweigh the risks. But Stephen…"

"Let Stephen come too," Harry interrupted. "He'll be at Hogwarts next year anyway, right?" Snape, Stephen, and Nuala all nodded. "Let people see him now so it's not a big surprise when his name is called by the sorting hat next year. I know what it was like to be put in the public eye for the first time on the first day at school. Let the rumors swirl around and then die as old news before next September."

Snape looked at Nuala who gave a small nod. He then looked at Stephen, who was giving him a pleading look. "Potter, I'll probably regret this … Fine, agreed."

Stephen let out a whoop. "Thanks, Dad! Mr. Potter, can you show me some of your Quidditch moves before you go? I want to be a seeker just like you."

Snape rolled his eyes, but Harry transfigured some silverware into miniature Quidditch figures and began to explain his favorite tricks.

DPDPDP

When Harry returned home and told Ginny that he had agreed to cheer for Slytherin at the next match, she was speechless. That gave him the opportunity to explain why. She was still dumbfounded, but the next day she told Harry she would not allow him to be the only one in the family wearing green, that she would wear a Slytherin scarf too. When they told Ron and Hermione what they were doing and why, Hermione immediately said she'd purchase a green and silver scarf. After much prodding, Ron said he'd wear one too, but only if he did not have to stand to cheer if the Slytherin seeker caught the snitch. Harry owled Professor McGonagall to inform her that they would be attending the match and she in return invited them for breakfast in the Great Hall prior to the game.

The morning of the Slytherin-Ravenclaw match was crisp and cool with thin, gray clouds covering the sky. Ron and Hermione apparated to the Potter residence so they could go to Hogwarts together. After a bracing cup of coffee, Ginny and Hermione nervously put on their green and silver scarves, feeling as if they were preparing for battle. Ron muttered to himself about the wisdom of supporting Snakes but was ignored by the others as he reluctantly adjusted his Slytherin scarf.

Harry asked them to wait while he apparated to Snape's home. Though the wards let him through, Severus gave Harry an annoyed look when he opened the door. Behind him, his son was practically bouncing in excitement. "Why are you here, Potter, and why so early? We don't need an escort. I still remember the apparation site," he growled.

In contrast, Stephen happily greeted Harry with broad grin. "I like your scarf, Mr. Potter," he stated.

Harry smiled in return and turned back to face Snape. "I know, Professor, but we've been invited to breakfast and I thought we'd make a bigger statement if we walked into the Great Hall together. Since you've never been to our house, I thought I could side-along apparate you there."

Snape looked at him suspiciously. "Breakfast at Hogwarts was never part of our deal, Potter."

"Professor, students will be able to see us better in the Great Hall than in the stands. Don't you want everyone there to know I am supporting Slytherin? If we're going to do this, let's do it in a big way. After all, you're the one who said it is the results that matter."

Stephen looked up. "Dad, let's do it! I've read all about the Great Hall. It will be so exciting to have breakfast there on a game day. I want to go!" Snape stared thoughtfully at his pleading son for a moment. In answer, he grabbed their scarves. Outside, he took Harry's arm with one hand while holding Stephen tightly against his side with his other.

Snape was not at all surprised to see that Ron and Hermione would be joining the group as they and Potter were always like peas in a pod, scheming together. He nodded in approval when he saw that the two of them and Ginny were also wearing Slytherin scarves. The Professor and his former students greeted each other stiffly. However, the introductions with Stephen were far more cordial as they could not help but like the enthusiastic ten year old with a gigantic smile. When Harry gave the word that it was time, they apparated to just outside the Hogwarts gates.

On the walk up to the front entrance of the school, Stephen was uncharacteristically silent as he stared, eyes wide with awe, at the majestic castle. Noticing Stephen's reaction, Harry smiled, clearly remembering his first view of Hogwarts over thirty years ago.

As they entered the Great Hall, silence began to fall as the students saw the well-known Gryffindors wearing Slytherin colors. Seeing them clad in green, the Slytherin students sat up straighter, giving each other questioning looks. Suddenly, one of the seventh-year students let out an audible gasp as he recognized the fabled Professor Snape from a large portrait in their common room. Buzzing began to grow as excitement quickly spread throughout the four student tables. All eyes were on the group by the time the six reached the head table to pay their respects to the Headmistress. Stephen, who had turned his wonderment to the enchanted ceiling, did not notice the looks directed at them.

McGonagall hid her shock and her delight at seeing the group showing their support for Slytherin. She realized immediately what they hoped to accomplish. "Good morning, everyone. I'm happy you were all able to come today. Welcome back, Severus. I'm glad you're here with us this morning. Perhaps you and your son would like to sit with me while the others join their children?"

Snape nodded. "We would be delighted, Headmistress." He and Stephen walked around the table. Stephen stared with fascination at the magicked ceiling as the sun poked out of the clouds, creating a beam of light that illumined the dais. The house elves quickly set two new places on McGonagall's right as the professors on that side made room. As the Snapes walked to their seats, the faculty stood and shook Severus' hand and then that of his son after they were introduced. Whispering to each other, the students avidly watched every move. Taking his seat, Snape said out of the corner of his mouth in a voice just loud enough for the Headmistress to hear, "I hope the owls are well rested." She repressed a snigger in response.

Meanwhile, five students were staring bemusedly at their parents. Hermione took charge of the explanations. "Headmistress McGonagall kindly invited us for breakfast before today's game. Yes, we're wearing green and yes, we will cheer for Slytherin. For too long Slytherin has been the scapegoat for the war when any serious student knows that heroes and villains came from all four houses. The hostility these families face are causing many of them to emigrate from Britain. Think about it. If the inventor of the Dragon Plague cure, who is a Slytherin, had left the country like so many of his house, you might not be here now. This is our protest against that bigotry."

Rose was the first one to understand what her mother meant. Without saying a word, she transfigured her scarf to green. Hugo, following his big sister's lead, did the same. James looked at them, gave Harry a devil-may-care smile that reminded him of Sirius, and changed his scarf too. Albus and Lily looked at each other, shrugged, and got out their wands.

As word spread why the famous Harry Potter was wearing Slytherin colors, additional green scarves began to appear along the Gryffindor table as the numerous Weasley cousins and a few friends of the Potters and Weasleys followed in support their example. Soon several splashes of green appeared at the Hufflepuff table as well. The switch to green was not universal at either table, but Snape was satisfied by what he saw. "I admit I am most pleasantly surprised at the change in attire," he whispered to the headmistress.

"You should visit more often," she whispered back.

"I know my reputation, Minerva," he responded. Glancing at the animated Slytherin students, he paused and considered today's events. "Though I hate to be in anyone's debt, this is far beyond what Potter had agreed to. Perhaps he was right in insisting that Stephen and I come today."

McGonagall smiled at him. "Severus, Carlson cured the Dragon Plague. Perhaps you have a role in curing a far deeper ill in our society. If so, our world will owe both of you our thanks."

Snape smirked before turning to Stephen. He became thoughtful. Conceivably, there was hope yet. Although James would be gone next year, the younger Potters and the Weasleys would still be here influencing their classmates. The Sorting Hat was sure to put Stephen in Slytherin, but perhaps his son wouldn't face the prejudice he had feared. The corners of Snape's lips turned slightly upward as he proudly looked at his son.

McGonagall, seeing Severus' expression and recognizing that it was as close to a smile as she ever saw him make in public, chuckled. "Today is just chock-full of surprises." She turned her attention to young Stephen. "I think today's game will be extra exciting as the Slytherin team looks raring to go." Continuing, she added, "I understand that you are already talented at potions. Are you looking forward to coming here next year?"

The boy, mesmerized by the sights and actions going on in the Great Hall, enthusiastically turned to McGonagall with a dazzling smile. "You bet I am. And I can't wait until I play for Slytherin on my new Zephyr 500. It'll be brilliant!"

The last gray clouds of the enchanted ceiling faded away as a bright blue sky emerged, bathing the four student tables of the Great Hall in a warm glow. At this positive omen, Harry and Snape exchanged satisfied glances across the room.

_My thanks to my beloved spouse (who unlike me read the original books only once) for spending numerous hours patiently making this story better. _

_I hope you, the reader, enjoyed this tale. Please review!_


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